Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
After finding absolutely jack shit on her hard drive, I was beginning to let my fear and insecurities get the better half of my thoughts. I couldn’t help but think about what she was going through at the hands of one of my father’s enemies.
I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t eat.
I couldn’t control my racing thoughts.
Especially when I’d see my mother in such a desolate state on the couch.
Waiting.
We were all just waiting.
For the most part, I kept myself busy as best as I could. Tending to Mamá, grabbing her the mail, making sure she ate. It was hard to see her so withdrawn, but I stepped up in my father’s absence. Doing what I had to do. Though the evenings were the hardest times of the day for me. It was usually when my sister and I would hang out. We’d watch a movie, talk about life, our father, do normal shit that siblings did together. We didn’t have a lot of friends outside of each other. It was hard to know who we could trust, and who was using us for money and status. At the end of the day, we relied on one another.
Plain and simple.
My longing to kill the motherfuckers who kidnapped her didn’t subside by any means, I started fanaticizing about it. What I would do, how I would do it. Hearing them beg for mercy was what got me through most days.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Martinez,” Mariah the postal carrier greeted as I grabbed the mail from her hands.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Cruz? Mr. Martinez makes me look for my father.”
“Con rispetto.” She smiled, “With respect.” It wasn’t uncommon for natives to be multilingual like I was.
“Signore, why you look so sad? Is everything alright?”
I nodded, lying to her. “Have a good day, Mariah.”
“Oh! Signore!” She halted my descent and pointed to an envelope. “There is no return address on this one.”
LEXI.
Who would have thought that four letters, big and bold could have the force to almost knock me on my fucking ass.
What the fuck?
Intuition was a powerful feeling. From one synapse to another, it shot through my nervous system like a bullet through my goddamn heart. I didn’t protect Ari when she needed me the most, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. The question wasn’t who was going to let me, it was who was going to stop me.
I hauled ass to my room, needing to get to the bottom of this first. My father was nowhere to be found and there was no reason to include Mamá. She had enough to deal with.
Shutting the door behind me, I locked it and ripped open the package. A shiny CD dropped at my feet like a fucking grenade just landed beneath me.
Now or never.
I grabbed a leather glove from my drawer, making sure I wasn’t tampering with any evidence or fingerprints. After determining there was nothing else in the envelope, I uploaded the disk onto my laptop and held my fucking breath.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see, to feel, to hear.
No, God…please no.
My mind.
My sanity.
When you stared in the abyss, it stared back at you swallowing you whole. Possessing your soul. You relied on the darkness to survive. It was beyond my control.
The internal battle that surfaced in the forefront of my eyes, from my mind to my heart, to every goddamn bone in my body. I stood in the fire of Hell, surrendering to the pain. Seeking comfort in the flames
The sins of the father became those of the son.
Wrath for taking what was precious to me.
Greed for the lives that were mine to kill.
Sloth for the destruction against their will.
Lust for revenge and the blood I’d spill.
Gluttony for the souls I craved.
Envy for the spirits I had yet to take.
Pride for the legacy I’d soon fulfill.
I wanted to remember everything about this moment.
Adriana.
Tied to a chair.
Her eyes covered.
Her mouth gagged.
Tears streaming down her face as she cried in what appeared to be a cold and dingy basement.
Her hair disheveled.
Her cheeks bruised.
That deep cut on the side of her mouth.
My fists tightened.
My jaw clenched.
I saw nothing but fucking red.
Bright. Vibrant. Red.
When all of sudden, an auto-tuned voice echoed off the walls and into my skin like shards of glass tearing into my flesh.
“Walls speak evil.
Doors hide truths.
Monsters deceive.
Serpents collide.
Be scared of the rain.
Hide from the snow.
Beware of the man.
You think you know.”
I blinked, and the screen went black, the video ended.
However, it was only the beginning of El Diablo’s resurrection.
Chapter 11
—Cruz—
I was done marching in line with my father’s fucking rules.
Red light.
Left turn.
Green Light.
Right turn.
I pushed the accelerator to the floor of my 458 Ferrari. Paddle shifting the transmission into third, trying to shake off the unrelenting visions of what I’d just seen and heard. I turned up the music, blaring it as loud as it would go. With the hopes it would tune out the images of Adriana in front my eyes. It hammered loud and hard into my mind, mimicking the pounding of my heart and the ringing in my ears.